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“Don’t go to Lager’s again.”
“I can handle myself, you know.”
“Of course I know that. You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met.”
She leans up on her tiptoes and kisses my cheek. “So it’s settled?”
“If you agree not to go.”
“Can’t make you that promise, Eli.”
“What will it take to get you to agree?”
“Can you get those horses off his property so I can treat them?”
I cup her cheek. “He’s not well. Really not well. Like off his meds not well, and I’m afraid for you. I’m asking your help to keep you safe and to keep me sane.”
I tell her about my visit. Everything, that is, but the baseball bat that nearly rendered me in a vegetative state. I pull in a breath before dropping a bomb. “He thinks your mom is alive, that she’s his wife, and that you’re going back to an abusive husband so you don’t lose your kids. Darlin’, I think he thinks you’re Emilia…” I can’t finish that thought. I shake my head to erase the idea.
“What?” Her hand covers her mouth and her pupils dilate. “How…?”
“To understand the conversation I had with him, I’d have to live in his imaginary world. Again, he is not well, but his anger and suspicion are not lesser for it. He’s paranoid and has violent tendencies. Please, please esteem your life—your health and your safety—over that of his horses.” I hold her eyes.
She holds me tight, burrowing in, as if she needs to climb into my skin, until she pulls back and holds my gaze. “We have an every other Friday standing meeting. What should I do?”
“I don’t think he’ll know what day of the week it is. Or whether you’ve been gone one week or two. Certainly not before his meds are reintroduced.”
“And then?”
“Then— Then I’ll still want you to avoid putting yourself in that situation.”
Finally, she agrees to avoid him with a single bob of her head. The look in her eyes shows her resolve.
I’m praying she keeps that promise.
TWENTY-THREE
OWNING THE FUCKING ROOM
BRIGHTON
“Iwant to tell them exactly what to do with their summons.” I stand and pace from my seat in Pop’s living room, staring between Pop and Eli.
“All due respect, darlin’, you have the right, but there’s no wisdom in it. Listen to Eli. He’s the expert.”
“Always the girl being told not to speak,” I huff under my breath, but there’s no anger in it.
“Like that’s ever worked.” Pop’s eyeroll is tempered by his smile.
“Bright?” Eli calls before doing it a second time. “We need to prep for this. As sharp as you are, it isn’t in your best interest to come off that way.”
I gasp. What? He’s adding insult to injury.
“Let me finish. You will not be sympathetic if the jury sees you as annoyed by being there or defending yourself as if you’re above the law. We get one chance to make them walk in your shoes. You’re going to have to set that scene.”
“I get it, Eli. They need to see that Colt was vulnerable, we were sitting ducks, that we had no control, and were at the mercy of mad men. I stepped up—not because I wanted to—but because I was forced to. To protect my nephew, to save my own life… Despite my fears, not because of them. Is that what you mean?”
“Exactly.”
